


Reasons to Stay

by paranoid_parallax



Series: vld vent fics [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_parallax/pseuds/paranoid_parallax
Summary: After years of handling the pain well and trying to stay positive, Shiro impulsively decides to end his life in a moment when things suddenly become too much.He changes his mind during the attempt, but is still left with a possibly permanent injury, only adding to the pain he was desperate to escape.Shiro's husband Curtis is there to support and take care of him while he recovers over the next few days.
Relationships: Curtis/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: vld vent fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567141
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Reasons to Stay

**Author's Note:**

> (not to get too personal buuut I basically did this same dumb shit to myself recently, for the same reasons with the same result, and I'm still pretty messed up about it so I had to write something to process it better. I don't think it's too OOC though idk, Shiro and I just have some pretty similar problems)

Shiro knew he was going to have to do this eventually.

He just hadn’t expected it to be today.

Years in the future, sure— he’d resigned himself to it. He wouldn’t be able to stand living like this forever, with a body and mind that were falling apart.

He didn’t know how he would leave his family behind, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. There was still time.

Until suddenly, there wasn’t.

——————————

Shiro was in so much pain.

That was nothing new, of course. He was used to it. But the past few days had been rougher than usual, and that showed no signs of stopping— was more pain going to become his new normal? It wouldn’t be the first time, not even close.

For days, he’d pushed through it as always, until something finally snapped. He could never say why _then_ — it hadn’t been a particularly horrible day. He wasn’t even especially depressed. Well, at least not until he started wallowing in despair over the unfairness of how he’d never gotten to live a normal life. He’d been so young when he was diagnosed. And it was _rare_ — how unlucky could one person get? That wasn’t even including the torture he’d been put through and the other disabilities it had left him with.

He’d never get to grow old with Curtis, to be there for Keith, to—

It was fine. A short life was _fine_. He’d done enough. He’d experienced enough. They were better off without him, anyway.

Why did everything have to fucking hurt all the time?

He was tired. He wanted the pain to stop. He couldn’t get it off his mind, it clawed into him from every angle and disoriented him, and suddenly everything condensed into that moment. Years in the future turned into _right now_.

_Fuck it._

Numb, almost on autopilot, he began searching for the things he needed. Pushed a chair to the middle of the room, under the ceiling fan. Belt… not long enough. What else? He could use sheets or something… but that just seemed like way too much fabric to deal with. Laptop charger? No, too expensive to damage.

Shiro yanked the string out of his hoodie. This should work.

No, it was still a bit too short on its own.

Eventually, he had combined the belt and the drawstring and attached them to the ceiling fan. Standing on the chair, he tied the end around his neck.

_Okay._

_This is it._

_Deep breaths. It’s fine._

He decided to test it a little first, to make sure it would support his weight without breaking— or breaking the ceiling fan.

Without lifting his feet off the chair or kicking it aside yet, he lowered most of his weight onto the makeshift noose.

Shiro stood back up. Seemed to be working. Not at all comfortable, though.

He actually laughed at the absurdity of it— of course suicide wasn’t going to be comfortable. What had he expected?

It was just that he was so sick of pain.

He lowered his weight more fully this time, but with his hands kept on the rope under his chin. Just testing, one more time, to make sure it wouldn’t collapse and end in nothing but an expensive repair bill.

His hands couldn’t fully keep the pressure away from his neck— that hurt. He put his feet back down, just for a moment.

_You deserve it. Now stop fucking around and either do it or don’t._

Shiro took one last deep breath.

_Okay._

He dropped all of his weight into the noose, feet dangling to one side of the chair. Hung there for a moment.

_Ow. Shit. This hurts._

Not being able to breathe properly was a familiar feeling, and one he had come to despise. He wished there was a better way.

_How long does it take to lose consciousness?_

He hadn’t even left a note. And Curtis would probably be the one to find him.

_Wait I changed my mind I don’t want to die—_

Scrambling to pull himself back up, he grabbed at the rope, swung a foot back onto the chair, and awkwardly righted himself, gripping the ceiling fan for not-so-dear life.

The knot around his neck was suddenly terrifying, constricting, reminding him of hands around his throat— _no get it off get it off—_ He undid it with trembling hands. Took everything down and hid or replaced it as robotically as he had set it up. No one could know.

Shiro curled up on the bed and cried.

——————————

His neck fucking _hurt_.

Shiro hadn’t meant to start crying over nothing at dinner. He hadn’t meant to visibly shake more than usual. To break down like that in front of his husband. He didn’t want Curtis to worry, but it seemed there was no avoiding that.

The next day, he felt pain shooting down his arms and into the back of his head. The day after that was even worse. Just what he needed— more pain. It was sort of ironic.

He had to admit the pain was worrying him, as it seemed more and more clear he had injured something even with his relatively minimal attempt, and he knew he was going to have to tell someone eventually. He just didn’t want to hurt Curtis like that.

But he also didn’t want to deal with being hospitalized involuntarily, which would most likely happen if he told a doctor. Curtis would find out then, anyway— and so would Keith, probably.

Why did he have to be so fragile? Why couldn’t his body just work normally for _once_? This was so stupid. He’d barely even done anything.

Though he had no desire to try it again, part of him wished he had succeeded.

——————————

Later that evening, he finally admitted to his husband that he had attempted suicide.

Did it even count as an attempt? He wasn’t sure. It had only been a few seconds at a time… He figured if it had been enough to do damage, it probably counted, even if he’d changed his mind well before he could _really_ mess something up.

Curtis was crying, and Shiro felt a stab of guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Takashi…” Curtis held him close with an unusual undercurrent of franticness, as though he might disappear any moment. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’re in so much pain right now.”

“It’s fine, really. I just need to see a doctor about my neck because it feels like I injured something, but I don’t want to get locked up in a psych ward for however long, you know?” He sighed.

“If you need help, you need help.”

“Being trapped in a psych ward won’t help.”

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But I meant with your neck. It could be something serious— it’s worth risking a few bad days over.”

“Oh, no,” Shiro said dryly. “Not something _serious_.”

“I mean it. This is important.”

“I know. I just mean, with everything else that’s happened to me, would it really be that shocking to get another serious condition? I might as well just leave it alone, it’s probably going to be permanent either way.”

“No. We need to get you to a doctor.”

There was a silence.

“Okay,” Shiro conceded finally.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m just worried. This is not your fault.”

“Of course it is.” How could he have done something like this? He certainly regretted it now. One frustrated, exhausted afternoon could have bought him a lifetime of that much more pain. “God, I’m such an idiot…”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve been through hell, and you’re allowed to struggle sometimes. It’s impressive that you’ve held everything together for this long, honestly.” Curtis hugged Shiro tightly with tears still streaming down his face, rubbing his back soothingly. “I’m so proud of you for everything. For how strong you are, and how much you’ve overcome… maybe I don’t tell you enough. I don’t know, I never wanted to seem patronizing or something. But I know what it’s like to be in that kind of really dark place where you feel like it’s the only way out. I’ve never tried to… but I’ve thought about it, in the past. And my life’s been, like, twenty times easier than yours. I can only imagine what you’ve had to deal with, but I want to be there for you in any way I can.” He stifled a sob, face buried in his husband’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you didn’t die. I don’t know what I’d do without you… I love you so much, Takashi.”

“I love you too.” Shame and guilt welled up inside him. “I— I didn’t want to leave you. I wasn’t even thinking about anyone, really— I was just in so much pain and it was a stupid, impulsive decision that I very much regret.” He had noticed what else Curtis had said, and wouldn’t let it go ignored. “Sweetie… have you been feeling suicidal lately?”

He felt Curtis tense up. “I mean, no more than normal.”

“Uh, I feel like that shouldn’t be normal.”

“A lot of things shouldn’t be.”

“That’s true.” He laughed softly. “But still. Don’t think I’m gonna just forget that. We need to talk about what’s going on— you deserve help. You—”

“This is about _you_ right now.”

“Fine. But you’re next, okay? Once we make sure I haven’t permanently damaged my neck, we need to focus on what’s going on with you.”

“It’s not just your neck. Stop changing the subject.” His expression softened. “I appreciate the concern. But I promise, I’m doing better than you are right now. Making sure you’re as okay as possible, physically and mentally, is the top priority for the time being.”

Shiro sighed. “Fine.”

“Good.” Curtis pulled him in for a gentle kiss, being careful of his neck, and for a moment it was a little easier to forget the pain.

——————————

He managed to somehow talk his way out of being hospitalized— he’d changed his mind, after all, and he was feeling much better now… sort of… some of the time. If he were being honest, the whole situation had frayed his nerves badly, but he wasn’t being honest. Not even with himself.

Even trying to send an email explaining his absence from work seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. Or getting dressed. Or eating. He just wanted to sleep for about a year, and at the same time, he was afraid to sleep due to the usual nightmares.

But really, he was _fine_.

Further investigation revealed that he had pinched a nerve in his neck. It might resolve on its own, or it might be permanent— but knowing his body, Shiro guessed it would probably be the latter. If that happened, it could be managed, but not really fixed. Well, at least he was no stranger to hearing that.

His husband dedicated the next few days to taking care of him, even convincing him to take time off from work. Predictably, he’d protested, but Curtis talked to Sam about it and then that was that.

In truth, Shiro was grateful for the break. After all, he was exhausted. He felt like he couldn’t handle the slightest thing right now.

“How are you feeling?” Curtis asked gently.

“Okay,” he managed weakly from where he was curled up on the couch. His body couldn’t even let him rest properly; he had to move around constantly to avoid worsened pain. Not that that was anything new, but the neck was an extra variable to consider, and that was the last thing he needed right now.

“What do you want for dinner?”

_Pizza._

No. His body was falling apart already, he couldn’t afford to eat anything that wasn’t purely healthy. Especially not when he’d skipped his workout routine for the past few days. _Slacker. Lazy._ He could feel the clock ticking faster and faster, time running away from him more aggressively than before. It was his job to keep this body functioning for as long as possible, and he was failing spectacularly.

“Hey.” Curtis sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can have whatever you want, okay?”

He couldn’t seem to get words from his brain to his mouth at the moment, so he just shook his head, tears forming in his eyes somehow for the first time since the incident.

“It’s okay. Look, I know you’re worried about your health, but what’s most important for your health right now is that you eat and that you’re happy. Or… happier, anyway.”

There was a pause. Curtis waited patiently for Shiro to speak, stroking his hair affectionately.

“Pizza,” he croaked finally.

“You got it.” Curtis smiled. “Want me to order now?”

Shiro nodded.

——————————

They ate snuggled together on the couch under a pile of blankets, watching TV.

After an hour or so, Shiro’s eyes were closing. It usually wasn’t hard for him to stay up late, but he found himself getting worn out so easily lately.

Half-asleep, he let Curtis guide him upstairs and help him into bed. It wasn’t until the lights went out that he snapped back to alertness in an instant. “Wait!”

Curtis turned the lights back on. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. You just seemed like you really needed some sleep.”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you. I just…” he sat up. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

“Are you worried about nightmares?”

 _You know me too well to believe a lie._ “… Yeah.”

Crawling into bed beside him, Curtis hugged Shiro, comforting him as best he could. “You’re safe now, I promise. I know it’s scary, but I’ll be right here next to you, and I’ll wake you up if I notice you freaking out or anything.” He pulled back just enough to look his husband in the eyes. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But they never stopped, did they?” Shiro’s voice was heavy with resignation. His tongue felt like a lead weight. “No matter how far away I get, this shit is going to follow me.”

“I know.” Curtis looked alarmingly like he meant that from experience. “But we can try to turn it around. It’s shitty that you have to be the one to fix it all when you didn’t deserve any of it in the first place, but there’s nothing else you can really do.” He smiled, a little sadly. “Take your time, though, and don’t push beyond what you can handle. It’s a long process. You don’t need to be perfect at recovery, we just need to get you to a place you feel is worth staying.”

“It’s worth staying with you.”

Curtis kissed the top of his head. “Well, I’m glad you think so, but that’s not gonna be enough in the long run, you know? You can’t be living just for me— I want you to want to live for yourself.”

They stayed like that for a little while, Shiro slumped exhaustedly in Curtis’s arms. The silence wasn’t awkward, it was cozy and safe.

“I need to move,” Shiro mumbled finally.

“Okay.” Curtis let him stand up and stretch.

Why couldn’t he have one day, even one _hour_ , without pain? It was beyond frustrating. It was what had ultimately almost pushed him over the edge a few days ago— there was never a break from the pain, and when it was at its worst, nothing helped. Rest didn’t heal it. Exercise could make his body stronger, but sometimes it hurt too. Working out was always an extremely delicate balance between not doing enough to stay as in shape as possible and thus keep his disease at bay a little longer, and pushing himself too hard until he was out of commission for a while and lost half the progress anyway.

“Baby?” Curtis said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Shiro sighed. “There’s nothing anyone can do. It’s just going to be like this for the rest of my life.”

“Is that why you tried to…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, I just mean…” Curtis trailed off for a moment, then looked as though something had occurred to him. “Hey, what if we try to, like, offset it with something that feels good?”

_Oh._

Curtis bit his lip, a little nervously. It was cute. “I know it’s a temporary fix, but your body deserves to feel something nice for a change, baby.”

Not that that wasn’t a tempting offer, but… “I’m sorry, I’m way too tired.”

“It might help you get to sleep, too. You can just lie back and I’ll take care of everything. Only if you want, of course,” he added hurriedly. “I’m not trying to pressure you at all, just a suggestion.”

Well, it wasn’t a bad suggestion.

As much as Shiro did want this, the thought that it would be good for his circulation still crossed his mind and informed his decision to say yes, and he found that almost hilariously sad for a second. Then he pushed the thought aside, stepping over to let Curtis pull him in for a kiss, gently ease him onto his back and add pillows under various joints to make sure he’d be more comfortable, trail kisses lovingly down his chest and stomach, and start to give him pleasure to drown out the pain for a little while.

——————————

Things improved slowly but surely. The next day, Keith spent the day with them, and Shiro didn’t have to fake the happiness he felt, even if it was temporary.

Soon, Curtis had convinced him to start seeing a therapist, and though he was still wary of opening up too much, it had been somewhat helpful so far— and while they were on the subject, he had insisted that Curtis should go to therapy too.

It was a couple of weeks before he managed to fully get back into his workout routine, and the loss of strength dismayed him, but he finally gathered the courage it took to start again from that setback point and regain it.

Within three weeks, he had returned to work. He’d worried he might be fired or something, but Sam had his back.

Shiro still didn’t exactly feel great, of course. The pain, and its underlying, looming threat, were always there, and there was plenty of trauma he had yet to address in therapy. He was far from healed; he wasn’t sure he ever would fully heal. Nonetheless, he was beginning to find happiness again— in his family, his friends, his work, his hobbies— even if things were still difficult. Most of the time, he found himself glad he hadn’t left it all behind.


End file.
